


Lucky Shot

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hunting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:12:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is 16 and going on his first angel hunt. This is an Alternate Universe where  angels are hated and are hunted for their wings and blood and things of the sort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Departure

The Departure.   
It was the day. This was the day! This was the day that Dean turned 16. And the day a young man, or women, turned 16 in his family is the day their family takes him hunting. Angel hunting. Of course Sam get to come along, he just has to hunt normal things. This was special. In this town, hunting angles is everything. The wings are priceless enough that even just finding lost feathers is a big deal. They are often mounted or stored because they are supposed to give you good luck. Dean and his little brother Sam used to go on hunt to help track and find feathers, but never to actually kill anything.  
Killing angles is a very difficult thing to do. The hunter needs arrows blessed by a priest or a minister of some kind and it needs to be dipped in holy oil. The people of this town hunt angles as part of an old tradition. Generations ago, there was supposed to be an apocalypse brought about by the angles, but the humans found out how to kill them and stopped it. Now, angles are hunted religiously and mercilessly. From the crib they are taught that they are a plague on humanity and must be killed off. But they are hard to find and can repopulate surprisingly fast. They are also very intelligent. They can speak and look human, to try and get pity. Never let them see you and you must NEVER let an angle talk to you. One word, one look, and they know your name, your weaknesses, EVERYTHING they need to kill you. And Dean was going to take one down, today.  
“You ready, Dean?” Sam glanced at him. Sam was still only 14, so he was going to help Bobby track down demons instead.  
“Of course I’m ready. Sammy, I was born ready. Got my bow, got my wits, all we need are those goddamn angels.” Dean laughed, giddy with adrenaline.   
“You ready to go, kid?” that was Bobby, the best hunter in town and Deans surrogate dad. Bobby was a legend. There are stories of how he wiped out an entire garrison of angels. When the boy’s real father died in a fight with a particularly nasty demon, Bobby had taken in Dean and Sam and taught them everything about hunting.  
“C’mon Sammy, let’s go get us some angels.” Dean nudged his brother with his shoulder and slung his quiver over his back and grabbing his bow, running to the truck. Sammy grinned and rushed after him. Even though it was still early morning both boys were wide awake. They had been looking towards this day for ages, counting down. They were both already pretty good hunters, having learned from both their dad and Bobby; the whole town had big hopes for them, showing the promise they had.   
The truck wasn't really all that necessary, they could walk to the hunting area easily, they really just took it to bring the game back because it tended to be heavy. It also carried everything they needed for the hunt. Where they were going was called the Bad Lands Forrest, and it had everything that goes bump in the dark and a few things that just wait until the dark is there. So, naturally the truck was loaded with all the monster hunting essentials. Spray-paint, salt, iron, wooden stakes, holy water, holy oil, axes, rock salt rounds and shotguns, dead man’s blood, silver bullets, and the colt, with rounds of the ever famous, all-killing bullets. Bobbie and Sam were going to set some devils traps in the forest while Dean went after angels alone. The hunt was going to take a week, where dean will the camped out in a monster proofed cabin with a two way radio to check in every morning and night. There were devil trap and angel proofing all over the cabin and the walls were coated in salt. The door stops and window sills were made of harden salt rock, a creation of Bobbies, to protect whoever lived in the cabin at the time. It was always stalked with cans and fresh water and had a rain collecting water heater on the roof. There was a garden out back that grew fruits and veggies for whoever wanted them. They were also protected by every trick that Bobby knew.   
Once they pull up to the edge of the Bad Lands, Bobbie stopped the car and everyone got out. Dean grabbed his duffle and notched one arrow, in case he saw angels overhead.  
“You sure you are up for this? They look human and can trick anyone out of their right mind.” Bobby looked Dean square in the eyes.  
“Of course I am. I’ve been on angel hunts before, I know what to do. You just worry about those demons and in one week, I will be back with the best set of wings any one has ever seen. And you know what; I’m going to get grey ones.”   
The lore on angels is there are normal angels, with the typical white dovelike wings, then there are the “Fallen”. These are angels who have a strange genetic mix up that make them ultra-strong and capable. The same gene also causes the feathers on their wings to be a shadowy grey to black in color. These were prized almost as much as arch-angels because, not only are they rare, but their blood and bone have healing potential and labs and hospitals pay a pretty penny for it. But they were riskier to go for, and dangerous to hunt.   
“Dean. Don’t be bull headed. Don’t do anything stupid or dangerous to get a dark-wing. If you get one, fine, just don’t take any unnecessary risks and come back in one piece. Don’t forget to check in or I’ll come lookin’ for ya. Shoot straight and be careful.” With those words Bobby hugged dean, followed by Sammy.  
“I know you can bag a dark-wing. Good luck.”   
“You too Sammy. Have fun catching those demons.” After a quick embrace, Dean Vanished into the forest.


	2. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean shoots and tracks down a dark-wing, but once it matters, can he really kill it?

The Hunt. 

Inside of the Bad Lands was dark. Because of all the trees and sulfur, it was in a perpetual twilight, complete with vampires and werewolves. To hunt where the angels are, you need to wear a gas mask. Dean had noticed plenty of signs of angel habitation. Nests, feathers, even an egg or two. This was an angel hotspot for sure. He stashed some of the eggs and feathers in his duffle, not enough to get the entire garrison after him, just enough to set his family with enough money to feed them for a while, maybe get Sammy an new PS3 game he had been eyeing. It was obvious on one had been here in a while, or It would have been less noticeable that they were nesting here.  
‘I found the nesting sight, now I just gotta wait for one to show up.’ Dean thought to himself. Noting where the landing spaces were, he masked his sent using the feather dust he had prepared earlier and hid in a bush, bow at the ready. Settling in, he drew a banishment seal on the tree beside him. Garrisons work like packs, most going off in search of food or whatever they ate, leaving one soldier behind to watch over the nest. Those are normally the young males, as they are the stronger ones of the flight. Angels do, in fact, lay eggs. The shells themselves are amazingly strong and are use in armor, the insides, if not to developed, are a delicacy and if an angel found him, he would be in trouble, even more so because he took some of their eggs. They also often take turns so it must be between shifts. That was when Dean heard the swooping sound of a set of wings. Drawing the bow, Dean readied himself.   
A young angel landed in the clearing, avoiding the nests with eggs in them. Dean almost panicked as it was none other than a grey-wing. Oh course it would be, nothing ever went easy in Deans life. The wind that the angels wings kicked up made Dean’s hat fly off but that luckily didn't reveal him. The angel landed with his back to Dean, muscles ripping under skin and feather. It was a 10 pointer easy. Its wings were massive. Taking a deep breath, Dean drew the bow to full force. There would only be one shot or he would have to use the banishment seal and find new grounds further away another day. There was only ever one shot when it came to angels. Dean took a deep breath, taking aim.  
And released.  
The arrow flew quick and straight. It hit the angel in the shoulder just as it was turning. Startled, it took flight with a yell. The merciful thing about hunting angels it once they are hurt or scared, they drop feathers like Hansel and Gretel dropped bread crumbs, making them very easy to track. Marking the direction, Dean took off after it. Finding feathers with drops of silver blood, finding this angel would be easy. Hopefully the holy oil would force it to land before it made it back to the garrison. if it did make it though, the other angels would heal him and find Dean for sure.  
Holy oil works like a poison to angels. It doesn't kill them of course, but it sure makes it weakens them, making it easier to fight them to the point where they could be killed. And the only way to kill them is with an angel blade won in the great war. Holy oil, of course, is lamp oil that has been blessed, and it worked on angels like dead man’s blood on vampires in the way that it causes pain and slows them down.   
Dean could hear the wing beats again meaning he was catching up, and they were faltering. Pretty soon they stopped altogether, followed by a crashing sound. Dean burst into a clearing where, nestled in the branches of a crumpled, half bent sapling was the angel. It was gasping for breath and its blood, a silver liquid that was glowing faintly, was puddling underneath it. Waiting until it stopped moving, Dean walked up to it slowly. Is it dead? Dean wondered. Slowly, step by step, he drew closer to the angel, looking for life signs. Leaning over it, Dean noted that it would have been rather handsome as a human. It had dark, short curly hair, was around six foot, and had a little bit of stubble. Then it moved, fast. Its right hand shot out, gripping Deans left shoulder, burning him. Yelling they both fell to the ground rolling away from each other. Dean jumped to his feet; bow at the ready despite the pain in his arm. It felt like he got hit by lighting, making him wince. The angel tried to stand, his grace sizzling at his palms, wings flaring out dramatically making him look absolutely terrifying. “BAMS NIISO LOAGAETH OLLOG” it shouted at him in a gruff voice. Then his legs buckled, the oil making him to week to stand. He kept trying to stand but he couldn't and the fact that he could still summon grace made him to dangerous to approach and kill with an angel blade. Finally the angel laid still, his shoulders shaking. Dean approached it with much more caution now. But then he noticed it was crying.  
“Please don’t kill me.”  
This brought dean up short. He had heard angels cuss and pray and just go silently, but never had he heard one beg. He looked into the deep blue of its eyes and was shocked to see tears. Normal, human looking tears. And fear. There was genuine fear. Dean loosened the bow and brought it down slowly. Don’t talk to them. If you talk to them, they can trick you into letting them go, but the moment you do, you will have the entire garrison on you faster than you can draw a bow. Bobbies voice rung in his head. Stealing himself, he drew the bow back again, breathing hard.  
“You are going to die here you goddamn angel. I’m going to kill you and take your wings. And nothing you do will stop me.” Dean almost yelled, his voice gruff like sandpaper but quivering like a child. It was more for himself than to scare the angel, but it worked on it any way. Closing its eyes, it rested its head back, trembling but giving in. Dean stopped. It looked so human, barely older than he was. He drew out the angel blade and kneeled with one knee in the angels thought and one on its hands, so it couldn't burn him again. He lifted the blade above his head, ready to plunge it into its heart, when something made him stop. C’mon dean. You've seen it thousands of times before. It ain’t human, just kill it.  
But you can’t, can you?  
Dean dropped the angel blade and fell back onto his ass. The angel opened it eyes weekly, wondering why he wasn't dead yet. He noticed that the human was… crying.  
“What have I done?” was the last thing he heard before the oil in his blood made him loose consciousness.


End file.
